


Simmons Deprivation

by Calliecatt93



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Canon-typical Cursing, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Kissing, M/M, Melodrama, Oreo's, Romance, Stupid Arguments, Stupidity Induced Angst, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22732096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliecatt93/pseuds/Calliecatt93
Summary: Simmons took Grif's Oreo's. Grif is pissed. Both are on the verge of breaking.
Relationships: Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons
Comments: 6
Kudos: 55





	Simmons Deprivation

“Come on Grif, open the Goddamn door already!”

“No! Fuck you!”

“Ugh! You’re being a fucking baby!”

“I don’t care! You took my Oreo’s away, so go and kiss up to Sarge’s ass instead of wasting my time, dickhead!”

The loud shout of aggravation from Simmons did not go unnoticed by Grif, even while he had his pillow over his ears. But fuck him. Grif was a forgiving person… well, okay not really. More like he’d forgive, but he’d get his petty revenge at a later date. But there were some acts that were just outright unforgivable and needed immediate retribution. And taking his one remaining pack of Oreos was about as deplorable as it could get.

He didn’t care about Simmons’ bullshit excuses of “We won’t get another supply drop for a month!” or “You’re all whiny and cranky when you run out!”. Nor did he care that he was still allowing him one per day until said shipment. He still took them from him. The only one he’d managed to save after Donut set the fucking bases on fire. The only one he’d have for at least a month, which was about ten minutes in Grif time.

He did not care that Simmons was only doing it so he didn’t run out until then., it was still fucking _low!_

Things had gotten quite enough for the orange soldier to drop the pillow. Simmons must have finally given up and stomped off. He let out a sigh as he threw his pillow back in its proper spot while flopping back onto the makeshift cot he had set up.

“Good fucking riddance.”

He ignored the voice in his head telling him ‘ _what the fuck is wrong with you?!’_ and the totally nonexistent ache in his chest. Ever since Simmons took his Oreo’s nearly a week ago, Grif had refused to talk to him, or go back into their shared bedroom in favor of the nearby broom closet. He could fall asleep anywhere, so he didn’t mind at all. Sure, closets made him think of… certain recent events. Certain Simmons-related recent events, but ah well! He could handle it!

It’s not like he _missed_ the nerd, or anything! He didn’t _at all_ care about missing feeling the nerd’s lanky but firm arms around him at night. Or how he would kiss his temple so softly before they dozed off. Or the feeling of warm, content bliss whenever he woke up to the other’s drooling but serene face and his utter denial over that fact whenever he decided to tease him over it. Or-

“No, fuck you! You are _not_ guilting me this time, you Goddamn brain!”

Nope, he wasn’t going to give in! He was going to be a bitter asshole, and Simmons could live with it! If he just let him munch on his Oreo’s in peace, neither of them would be happening to begin with. Yeah, right! This was all Simmons’ fault! They were both suffering because of him! Totally all him!

‘ _Except YOU’RE the one shutting him out, dumbass.’_

He mentally flipped himself off as he shoved his face into his pillow. Fuck all of this. He needed a nap...

* * *

He wasn’t sure how long he had been out by the time his growling stomach woke him up, but Grif didn’t really care to know either. He was going right back after he grabbed whatever he could find. He’d probably have to go run and get a fresh bunch of Meth-Methshrooms. It was probably dark as shit too. Not to mention the dinosaurs. 

Fuck.

“Can’t believe I have to do this shit,” the orange soldier mumbled to himself as he got up, “Stupid Simmons and his stupid, fucking rationing. Can’t just mind his own damn-!”

He stopped when he came face to face with the nerd in question.

Simmons stepped back, clearly startled. He has his hand raised, as though he had been about to knock on the door. Or punch it. Grif couldn’t be certain. He stared for a second, before rolling his eyes and pushing the other back to make his way down the hall.

“H-hey, wait!” spouted out Simmons as he grabbed a hold of the other’s wrist, “I… I want to talk-.”

“Not happening, dickhead.”

“Look, I-I know you’re mad, but-!”

“Good, then we’ve got nothing to talk about.”

“Will you just listen for one damn minute?!”

“No, fuck you!” He jerked his hand away to aim a sharp glare at the red-headed cyborg, “You already gave me all your damn excuses, and I don’t wanna hear ‘em again! Now let me go get my Meth-Methshrooms in peace, or are you gonna take _those_ too?”

“You’re really gonna eat more of-?! Ugh!” Once again, Simmons let out an aggravated noise as he pinched his temple. Grif started to turn away, ignoring the ringing in his voice calling him an idiot again. He wasn’t! Simmons was the one who wouldn’t let him keep what was rightfully his! He had every right to be pissed!

He shook his head to shut up the voice and took a step ahead.

“I-I, ugh… ugh… I haven’t given you your daily Oreo yet!”

Grif stopped in his tracks, though he remained facing towards the hall.

“Yeah you did, you left it in front of the door.”

“Well… technically yeah…,” Simmons replied in an almost inaudible tone, “But, ugh… it’s not yesterday anymore.”

Oh. It was _that_ late? Huh. That explained why no one else was around… except… Why was Simmons still up then? Wait, why did he care?! He didn’t!

“Okay,” Grif turned to face the other and held his hand out, “Hand it over.”

“Umm… i-it’s in the bedroom.”

“Then go get it.”

“Ugh… I think you should come get it.”

“Fuck no.”

“Grif, come on! Please?!”

The Hawaiian man wasn’t sure what it was, but the tone made him finally look directly at the other again. He looked… sad? Desperate? Kinda tired? He had tried several times in the past few days to talk to the other. Grif has tried his best to ignore him, but now…

“Fine,” he replied with a sigh, “But only for the Oreo. After that, I’m going back to my closet.”

Simmons opened his mouth, as though ready to retort. But he stopped and just turned to the direction of their… err, _Simmons’_ room. Yeah, not theirs. Nope. Not at all.

It was a short walk, only a few feet down the other side of the hall. Grif waited for Simmons to open the door… but the nerd didn’t move from his spot. He just stared at it, like it was going to bite him or something.

“Ugh… are you going in, or what?”

“O-oh, right…,” the nerd turned his gaze downward, apparently deciding that his fidgeting hands were more, “I think… I think you should do it.”

“Simmons, what the fuck is up with-?!”

“J-just do it!”

Grif raised a brow. Okay, Simmons was acting weird. Like… even for a dumbass nerd like him weird. Was being ignored really _that_ distressing to him? Well… w-well he should have just given him back his Oreo’s! Then neither of them would be suffering like this! Except he wasn’t suffering at all! Only Simmons was! Not him!

And he wanted to get his Oreo and get the Hell away before his brain broke.

“Fine, whatever,” the Hawaiian man stepped forward, “Honestly Simmons, I don’t know what the fuck your problem has been, but I’m not- ! Ow!!”

He was cut off when he pushed the door open and _something_ hit him on the head. He clutched the fresh bump as he looked down… and his eyes went wide as he saw a small, dozen pack of Oreo’s. Except it was tied to what looked like a dozen orange-colored roses.

“Wait… what?”

He looked back, seeing Simmons averting his gaze. His face was so pink it could rival Donut’s armor. The orange soldier turned back before slowly, almost carefully bending down to pick the bouquet up. They looked… nice. He wasn’t sure what to say or do, his fingers tracing the stems and the cookie packet. It was them that he noticed something sticking out behind it. A piece of paper He pulled it out and looked down.:

_Grif, I’m sorry. I fucking love you. Will you be my Valentine?’_

Oh

_Oh_

That was why he was still up…

“I… I know you’re mad and shit… and I really am sorry,” Simmons had since walked into the room, “I just didn’t want to deal with your shit when you ran out. And after the base burnt down and we weren’t going to get a shipment until who knows when… I… I guess I was kind of an ass for doing that though.”

“ _Kind of?”_

“Alright, a _huge_ ass. But, I… I had been saving that… for today… and I just want to tell you… I’m sorry, and I just… I just want to fix this…”

His voice cracked at the end. Grif’s grip tightened on the roses. All the emotions that he’d been holding in… he could feel them overwhelming him. God damn it, this was _his_ fault. _He_ was the one who refused to give Simmons a chance to talk. _He_ was the one who ignored him. _He_ was the one who got him this upset and nervous and…

_‘Fuck’_

“Umm…,” Simmons said again, “If… you don’t want to though… i-its okay…”

That voice sounded so lost, and it was all that Grif could take. He turned around, grabbing the other by the shoulders, roses still clutched tightly in his right hand. Simmons let out a squeak before Grif pulled him forward, smashing their lips together. It was clunky and uncoordinated and their temples had collided in the hurry. Oh God, was _that_ going to hurt later. But Grif didn’t dare break it. Not now. Not after he royally fucked up like this.

When he finally pulled back, he could finally see Simmons’ face. His face was flushed and he looked out of breath. His hair was messy and he looked like he was going to cry. 

‘ _Because you HAD to be a selfish dickhead, dickhead.”_

He got that, brain. He didn’t need anymore guilt-tripping.

“G-Grif?”

“Fuck… just… _fuck,”_ He didn’t know what else he _could_ say, “I… look… I was pissed. Like… _really_ pissed. But… God, what the fuck was I thinking?”

“You were mad…”

“Yeah, and pushing you out was the worst fucking thing I could have done. Simmons… look, I suck at this apology shit, but… it’s not your fault, okay? I… could have reacted better. I guess…”

Fuck, he didn’t know how to do this. But he couldn’t stand seeing Simmons this upset even more. He let out a breath, his head dropping to the other’s shoulder. He tried to think of what to say. What to _do._

“I… I’m sorry, okay? I fucking love you, and... yeah I’ll be your fucking Valentine. Didn’t know you could be this sappy, shit…”

Grif felt a cold, metallic feeling lifting his head up. He had to look at Simmons again. His expression was unreadable, though. Fuck, did he need to apologize again? Had he messed up? Well… more than he already had?

He felt his head being gently craned up as Simmons leaned down, their lips meeting once again. Grif wrapped his arms around the other’s shoulders, pulling him closer as Simmons’ other arm wrapped tightly around his waist. Grif’s face felt like it was on fire, but he didn’t care. He put everything into that kiss. It felt so passionate and intense and it made him feel dizzy. But he didn’t dare let go as he felt Simmons tongue lightly touch his lips, asking for permission. He allowed it, letting Simmons devour him and pull him even closer to him, hand moving to grasp at his hair.

He felt like he was going to faint.

The two finally separated, needing to regain their breaths. Everything felt like a blur, but Grif didn’t care as he again buried his face into the other’s neck. He felt Simmons stroke his back gently, and it made him melt into the other. Why did he _ever_ think that going on a Simmons deprivation streak was a good idea?

“Happy Valentines Day, Grif.”

“It’s not even day yet,” Grif quipped before planting a light kiss on the other’s neck, “But yeah… Happy Valentines Day. 

He should probably apologize again. They should probably talk about things. But damn, Grif was tired. Simmons must have felt the same way since he was already backing them up. By the time they were finally in bed, Simmons had already fallen asleep. His arms were firm around Grif however, keeping him close to his chest. Grif wasn’t far behind, letting the sounds and whirling of the other’s cyborg parts lull him back to sleep.

He should probably let the roses go. He would... in the morning. He could munch on his Oreo's the minute he got up that way. Yeah… that’ll be good.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Late Valentines everyone! I hope you enjoyed this! I admit it might have gotten too melodramatic... but it's Grimmons. I think that's a fair reason. Anyways! Thank you for reading and I'll hopefully do more soon~


End file.
